


No Ifs, Buts or Maybes

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, M/M, s0903Origin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-25
Updated: 2011-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:50:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duty and destiny call, forcing Jack and Daniel to take a close look at where they are and what they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Ifs, Buts or Maybes

Jack lay awake and rubbed his fingers absently through his chest hair. He smiled at the drying evidence of the night’s lovemaking.

He really should get up and wash, but that would mean leaving the warmth of the bed and disturbing Daniel, who had made a Daniel-blanket of himself shortly after falling asleep. Daniel didn’t usually flake out like that after he came, but tonight the sex had been the kind of intense that exhausted mind and body.

There was no apparent reason for that intensity; no “fuck, we almost died” mission, or “fuck, _you_ almost died and _I_ wasn’t there” post-mission conversation. It was one of those nights when Jack felt deeply, hopelessly in love, and when he began to show it with his body Daniel responded, meeting Jack’s searching gaze with eyes that smiled and said, “ _Yeah, me too.”_

No apparent reason. That’s what Jack told himself.

Jack knew that, tonight, everything he struggled to say in words had been there in his eyes. He was glad of that because there were occasions when words couldn’t come close to expressing what he was feeling. He knew that well enough and Daniel certainly knew that after years of learning Jack-speak.

His dick twitched as Jack conjured the memory of Daniel beneath him, legs spread, Jack’s cock pushing in deep and holding, then pulling out and thrusting in just a little way, over and over, his cock little more than kissing Daniel’s opening, bringing them both to a point where _nothing_ was enough ... not words, not caresses, not kisses that ended in whispered endearments and soft moans.

They fucked with their eyes, their bodies and minds. A perfect, perfect storm.

My god. It wasn’t always like this, but when it was ...

Jack thought he might have wept when he came, but he wasn’t sure now. Orgasm had been a white-out blur. He’d been aware of Daniel coming seconds after him, crying out his name. After that  -- complete systems overload. If tears had fallen, Daniel hadn’t made a thing of it, even though it was something Jack never did.

No apparent reason at all.

Jack cracked a huge yawn, amazed he hadn’t fallen asleep himself because he was beyond tired. The tick of the alarm clock was too loud and the diffuse glow of the street lamp too bright. If he didn’t sack out soon, he would be cranky in the morning. Daniel stirred and muttered something Jack couldn’t quite catch and the arm that had lain across Jack’s waist moved up to his chest and tightened its hold. Daniel burrowed in even closer and breathed out heavily, the exhalation tickling Jack’s chest hair. Jack smiled, turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on the top of Daniel’s head.

No apparent reason? Apparently, he was kidding himself, and his overtired brain was finally forcing him to admit it.

There _was_ a reason for this intensity. Okay, so they hadn’t nearly died like so many times before. Times when fucking and raging had been the only thing that held them together afterwards.  And he hadn’t almost lost Daniel off-world while he pushed papers round and round his desk at the SGC either. But something had happened that was enough to keep him awake and anxious enough to be irritated by the mere ticking of the clock and the glow of the street lamp.

“So ... when were you going to tell me?” Daniel’s voice was soft and surprising in the dark and Jack felt the shape of the words against his skin. Crap. He hadn’t felt Daniel wake. He was losing his touch.

Jack thought hard before responding.  Daniel was about to push him to have the conversation. They had to talk soon, Jack knew that, and yes, Jack had something to tell him, but now? On the other hand, what better place to talk about stuff than in the privacy and safety of their bed? _Jack’s_ bed, technically; _theirs,_ emotionally, practically.

“Am I at risk of having my nipples tweaked and my balls squeezed til they burst if I don’t come clean?”

Daniel snuffled what sounded like a sleepy laugh but made no effort to move away. He didn’t tilt his head upwards to look him in the eye either.

“Probably, although you’d be too distracted by enjoying the hell out of the former to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so ...”

Jack stroked Daniel’s arm in lazy, slow sweeps of his fingers. Daniel's skin was warm and smooth. Touching Daniel felt like home.  He’d been thinking about the meaning of the word ever since the phone call yesterday afternoon. Walter had put the caller through and something about the tone of his aide’s voice had set Jack’s spidey senses tingling.

His sixth sense rarely let him down. It hadn’t this time either.

“I didn’t want to say anything until it was confirmed.”

“A done deal, you mean.”

“No.” _Yes. Probably._

“Oh, I think so, Jack. Too late to have any input. Decision made. That’s just how it is.”

This. _This_ was why he hadn’t brought it up while they drank coffee and read reports in his office this morning or when they had dinner tonight.  Because he knew Daniel would be pissy and hurt. There was no avoiding what was going to happen and that was ... just how it is. Was. He was correcting tenses in his head now. Anything not to get into it.

“The decision _is_ made. It was made before I was even told. Note I didn’t use the word consulted anywhere in that explanation. It’ll be rubber stamped by the Joint Chiefs next week.”

Daniel shifted off Jack’s body to lie beside him. Jack was keenly aware of sleep-warmed skin moving against his, of how Daniel’s lax cock felt as it slid across his thigh. It was all Jack could do not to haul Daniel back onto him, where he belonged.

Daniel propped himself up on his elbow, still close but not touching. He looked mussed, dishevelled, thoroughly fucked. He looked amazing.

“So it’s true?” Daniel was doing a fine job of biting back the accusatory tone. Jack doubted he’d have been as restrained. He’d have shouted, demanded, made an ass of himself and regretted it later.

Jack sighed and turned on his side, facing Daniel. Tentatively, he reached out and ran two fingers down Daniel’s chest. He had to be touching him.

“Yeah. When the Pentagon says jump, you ask how high.”

Daniel nodded, as far as his head being propped on his hand would allow. His face was guarded, his eyes shuttered. Jack could almost see the cogs whirring in his head; analyzing, assessing, formulating responses and working on solutions.

“That explains the fucking,” Daniel said vaguely, his brain working on other things. “You only fuck like that when there’s something more behind it.”

Jack’s pithy rejoinder died unvoiced when he saw the second the reality of what they were talking about hit home. Daniel swallowed hard, frowned and turned his gaze away, the pain physical as well as emotional.

Fuck.

 _Fuck._

“I should have told you, I know. I just ...”

“It’s okay.” Daniel was addressing the cotton sheets, picking at a loose thread. Jack had paid a fortune for the high thread count. He allowed himself to be somewhat pissed at that loose thread.

“It’s not.”

“No. It’s not.”

They fell into silence, Jack watching Daniel’s delicate fingers flicking the loose thread back and forth, back and forth.

“What’s General Hammond going to do?” Daniel asked.

“He’s going to advise the Adminstration. He’s too valuable to lose entirely to the golf course. But mainly he’s retiring. Finally gonna get to write his book.”

Despite Daniel’s bowed head, Jack could see Daniel’s lips curl into a smile. “I’d read it.”

“The names will have to change to protect the innocent, I guess.”

The smile died on Daniel’s lips and the loss of that smile twisted Jack’s insides.

“The innocent are dead. I doubt they’ll sue.” He said it with such dispassion that it didn’t sound like Daniel at all. That hurt Jack more than anything.

“Hey ... we did good. For the most part. As for the rest ...”

“Sorry.” Daniel’s face scrunched up, the way it did when he was pissed with himself, exasperated. “Now is not the time for a retrospective.”

“It will make an interesting epilog to Hammond’s book, though,” Jack conceded. “SG-1: Intergalactic success  or galaxy-wide failure. Discuss.”

Daniel let loose that small, barely-there smile again. “I can write a thesis. Empty another lecture hall.”

“I’d listen.” He would, too. He’d do anything to hear Daniel’s voice sometimes. At the end of a long, mind-numbing day of power-brokering, the sound of Daniel talking, laughing, even ranting , was a balm to his soul. Losing that when he needed it would be hard but losing that permanently was unthinkable. He’d do whatever he had to do to make Daniel see that, yes, the situation sucked but it wasn’t forever.

Forever was no waking up thousands of miles apart, no soul-sucking meetings with faceless bureaucrats, no intergalactic crises. A couple of difficult years split between Washington and Colorado was all that stood between now and forever. They _could_ make this work. They could. He would have resigned right there on the telephone to the Pentagon if he didn’t believe that.

He had to make Daniel see.

“It’s Washington, Daniel, not Siberia,” Jack said, bringing the conversation back to where it needed to be. “There are airplanes and everything these days.” Stupid. _Stupid_ thing to say.  Jack was nothing but relieved when Daniel refused to rise to the comedy bait. He sighed, and gathered all the forcefulness he could muster. “We _can_ make this work.”

He fixed Daniel with a look, but the look Daniel gave him in return wasn’t convincing. Daniel did what he always did when he needed time to think. He changed the subject.

“You need to make some sort of announcement,” he said, turning his gaze away. “It’s all over the base.”

“Yeah ... about that. Who said what and how the hell did they know?”

Daniel shrugged and stopped worrying the thread.  “How do these things ever get out? Secretive place that it is in itself, the SGC does _not_ keep secrets, especially when it concerns a change in the guy at the top. I just wish I hadn’t overheard it in the lunch line in the commissary, that’s all. Sam heard it from a gate technician, by the way, and Teal’c from the guy who cleans the showers.”

“Daniel ...”

“I’m going to make coffee. Want some?”

Daniel slid out of bed. His body was ethereally beautiful in the low light. Heartbreakingly beautiful. He snatched up his robe from the chair by the door, his body language radiating tension and distress, and padded towards the kitchen.

Jack checked the time. 3.06 a.m. Too early for breakfast. He hoped it wasn’t too late for something much more important.

>>>>> 

Daniel switched on the coffeemaker with more force than was strictly necessary. His head felt dull, his brain in low gear. He hated falling asleep straight after sex, partly because it was such a fucking clichéd guy thing to do, and partly because he often woke up feeling like this afterwards. Like shit.

He hadn’t meant to start The Conversation just then. He’d planned the adult approach in the morning after a good night’s sleep; reasoned, considered. A stupendous orgasm followed by a too-early awakening had addled his brain and the question had come out of its own volition.

Him and his big mouth. Scratch that ... Jack and his big dick. He took at least fifty per cent of the responsibility for this.

What was it Lennon said? Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans? Seemed like everyone was making plans for him. Not just Jack. And he’d have to talk about that, too, somewhere in this endless night.

God. He was confused, and he knew he was sending out mixed signals about his reaction to Jack’s news.  He had the feeling he was coming across more sorrowful than angry, when the reverse was probably true. How the fuck could he explain what he was feeling to Jack when he couldn’t even explain it to himself?

Daniel reached up into the cabinet for clean mugs, placed them on the counter and braced his hands either side of he sink, breathing out heavily as the stark fact at the root of all this crap registered again. He breathed out the pain.

Jack was leaving.

Jack was going to Washington.

The thought bubbled up like a wellspring of barely contained panic. He could rail and snark all he liked but that fact wasn’t going to change. When the military made a decision it stayed made.

“I was waiting for the right time, which is dumb. There will never be a right time for this conversation. I’m sorry.”

Daniel let his head fall forward and he pushed off from the sink wearily and turned. Jack was standing, arms folded, leaning against the doorway. He was wearing those god-awful plaid boxers that Daniel hated and ribbed him about unmercifully. The fact that he was wearing them now made Daniel’s heart ache. Those moments of joshing, of the everyday, were so, so precious to him.

The coffeemaker did its thing, shushed and plopped. Daniel longed to wrap his hands around a hot coffee mug. His hands were cold. He was cold all over. It was a summer night and the room temperature was warm. It seemed his body was shutting down at the same rate as his emotions. Leave it much longer and he wouldn’t be able to have the conversation at all.

Time to try out that whole explaining thing for size.

“After Sha’uri ... I didn’t think ... I didn’t expect to fall in love again. I actually fought the notion of loving someone for a long time. There was a time when I thought Sam and I ...” Shit. His mind was like cotton wool and the beginning of a headache was pinching the nerves at the base of his skull. “We slept together, you know. Actually, maybe you don’t.” He risked a glance at Jack’s face. It was all angles and planes, devastatingly handsome in the half-light from the stove hood. It was giving nothing away. “It happened a couple of times, after the Jolinar thing. It started out as comfort and it turned out that’s all it was. There was a part of both of us that wanted more. We just ... never got there, and I think that was down to me more than Sam.”

Jack pursed his lips, the way he always did to buy time. “And you’re telling me this now because ...”

“Because I want you know what it took for me to allow myself to love you, the way I couldn’t or wouldn’t allow myself to love Sam, or anyone else for that matter, and what it would mean to lose that.”

God. They never talked about this stuff. Daniel hated that circumstances were _forcing_ them to talk about this stuff. “I don’t love easily and sometimes I don’t love well. I can be a self-absorbed, arrogant, oblivious prick, Jack, in bed and out. But, hey, at least I recognize that, right? I recognize that being the way I am makes me difficult to love but the converse is also true; it makes it fucking near impossible for me to  ... love ... someone, in the way that people should be loved. I sold Sha’uri short, notwithstanding the fact that my obsession with my work got her killed and do me the courtesy of not gainsaying that.” He could see Jack raising an “aht” finger, about to spout some crap about the Goa’uld being responsible.

“I made a deal with myself when we started down this road that I would never, _never_ do that with you. I would never compromise or be so work and self-obsessed that it would cost us what we were striving for. That if we _committed,_ for want of a better word, I would work at it.  _Really_ work at it.”

Daniel sighed. The coffeemaker clicked and finished its work. He turned back to the counter and poured two mugs of steaming Colombian dark roast. If ever there was a time for black, no sugar, this was it. The caffeine hit might just be enough to be keep him going through this. He pushed a mug towards Jack, who was still propping up the doorjamb.

Daniel wrapped cold fingers around the mug and inhaled the delicious aroma. He blew on the hot liquid and took a sip. It was a hit of bliss, the explosion of flavor a welcome distraction from the careful thought he was having to put into every word.

There was so much at stake.

Jack pushed off the door frame and ambled towards Daniel, gently moving his mug aside and leaning his butt against the counter. Daniel stood beside him.

“You’re _my_ self-absorbedarrogant, oblivious prick,” Jack said, softly teasing, relieving a little of the tension.  Daniel huffed a quite laugh.

“I love you, Daniel, and I get what it took for you to commit to us and I try not to take that for granted. If this move makes you feel that I have, then I’m sorry.  I don’t know what to say beyond that except that I want us to stay together, and we can make it work.”

Daniel sighed and looked at the floor. He said quietly, “I want that too, Jack. Being with you is what I want. Working together, being together here is all I’ve ever really wanted and needed.” He took another drink, the sound of his swallowing loud in the stillness. “We’ve worked so hard to get to this point.” He couldn’t push on and say what he knew he wanted to say next. He wasn’t that brave.

He turned his head and looked at Jack and saw instantly that Jack understood. That Jack _was_ brave.

“And?”

The prompt worked.

“And I’m not sure I can settle for anything less.”

The sound of the kitchen clock ticking was shockingly loud. Daniel was aware of the wind in the big trees in the yard, the sibilant hiss coming in through an open window. The shadow of the dancing branches on the wall was eerie and threatening. 

The silence between them stretched and thinned.

“My feet are cold,” Daniel said, because they were and he couldn’t bear the silence another second. He topped off his mug. Jack hadn’t touched his. “I’m going back to bed.”

 

>>>>> 

 

Jack watched Daniel leave the kitchen. He picked up his coffee and pulled a face. He rarely took it black and he didn’t think he could stand the bitterness. He poured it down the sink and watched the liquid swirl and vanish.

God, he was tired, and he longed to climb back into bed, curl around Daniel and sleep for hours. But they’d started this and there was no escape. He scrubbed his hands through his hair, then rubbed his face, trying to wake up a little more and marshal his thoughts. He considered taking a shower, or going for a run, and then dismissed both ideas. He needed to be close to Daniel.

Switching off the oven hood light, he wandered back to the bedroom, unsure of what he’d find. Half of him feared Daniel would be asleep, turned on his side away from Jack. Instead, he was sitting on the bed in the semi-darkness – the light from adjoining bathroom was on; Daniel must have taken a leak and left the door slightly ajar afterwards. Daniel’s feet were crossed at the ankles. He was holding on to his mug like a lifeline.

Jack watched him for a moment. He marveled at how he managed to look so young without his glasses and so stunningly hot with the hint of beard. It was a devastating combination. He sat down on the bed, tucking one leg up. He risked resting a hand on Daniel’s shin.

“What’s going on Daniel?” he asked softly.

Daniel didn’t look at him. “You’re leaving.”

Jack stroked Daniel’s leg, a gentling, comforting gesture, as much to benefit him as Daniel.

“You only spill like that when there’s something more behind it.” Jack fixed him with a look, which Daniel met with fierce eyes, recognizing instantly that his own words were being thrown back at him.

“You’re leaving,” Daniel said, enunciating each word clearly.

“This isn’t exactly how I expected you to react,” Jack said, keeping his voice low.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You wanted me to beg? To, to plead with you to stay?”

“No. I just think you came out with that stuff about Sha’uri and Carter and the way you love a little too easily, too quickly, like you’d been thinking about it for a while.”

Daniel put the mug on the nightstand, subtly shifting away from Jack’s hand as he did so.

“Well, I heard the rumor of your promotion over dubious meatloaf 17 hours ago, so I’ve had a while to formulate some thoughts.”

Jack nodded, waited a moment and added, “Not buying it.”

“That’s your prerogative.”

Jack lay down on his side on the bed, propped his head on his hand. “Sounded to me like that stuff had been swirling around in your head for quite a while.”

“Lots of stuff swirls around in my head.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

Daniel reached for his mug and studied the contents avidly. Jesus, the man could be maddening. This was not news. He could take passive aggression to whole new heights when he really set his mind to it.

“Talk to me, Daniel. Isn’t that what we have to do now? No avoiding the heavy stuff?”

Daniel took a gulp of coffee, playing for time. When he didn’t say anything, Jack shifted down the bed and twisted around until he was sitting and took Daniel’s right foot in his hands.

“Your feet really are cold.”

Daniel gave him a half smile. “Did you think that was just an excuse to get you back into bed, what with you being my official foot warmer and all?”

“Since when do you need an excuse to get me back in bed?” Jack gave him a wry look and started massaging some warmth into Daniel’s freezing toes. He felt Daniel begin to relax immediately. “Feel good?” Jack asked, knowing that it did. Daniel loved having his feet massaged. If he did it right, he could elicit ...

“Mmmm. That’s great.”

... exactly that kind of delicious response.

Jack rubbed and eased the cold and tension from Daniel’s feet, thinking about what to say next. He had to tread carefully. Morning would roll around soon enough and they’d be back at the Mountain and work would take them away from each other.

The clock was ticking.

He looked up to find Daniel with his head back against the headboard, eyes closed. He looked exhausted.  Jack checked the alarm. 3.45 a.m. Screw it. Daniel needed to rest. He gave his feet one last, affectionate squeeze and bent down to kiss the now-warm toes.

“Get some sleep,” Jack said quietly.

Daniel didn’t say anything, just let out a deep breath and, eyes still closed, shuffled down the bed, lifting the sheet as he went. Jack climbed in beside him, turning on his side as Daniel turned on his, facing towards the window, away from Jack.

Jack waited, wondering if Daniel would welcome his touch.  Normally, it wouldn’t even be a question, but everything felt a little off.  His heart skipped a beat when Daniel reached back, groping for his hand, which he found and pulled gently. Jack followed, spooning up behind as Daniel tucked his hand into his chest, holding on tightly.

It felt wonderful to hold him. It always did. They fit together so perfectly, two pieces of one small, exclusive jigsaw. Jack breathed in Daniel’s scent, mashed his nose into the soft strands of Daniel’s hair. _Oh god, Daniel ..._ the thought of being two-thirds of a continent away was unbearable when he held his world in his arms.

They lay together, cocooned until the dawn started to rise in the windows.

Jack thought that maybe Daniel had fallen asleep. He’d been quiet a long time and his breathing was steady. As always happened, Jack found his breathing had unconsciously synched up with Daniel’s.

Daniel’s words, when they came, felt like an intrusion.

“I was talking to Zelenka. A kind of accidental conversation. I wanted to speak to Weir about some Ancient writings that had recently been uncovered but she was off-duty. Radek said that there was talk about opening up another section of the city. He said he thought Weir was going to ask that I be reassigned to Atlantis. Possibly long term.” Daniel’s fingers tightened on Jack’s. “I’d been thinking it through for the last four days. What it would mean for us. And then ...”

Jack took a moment to process that. He hadn’t heard word one through official channels about a proposal for exploring more of Atlantis and wondered if it was just talk. It was possible he was out of the loop and that Weir had gone directly to higher. He shut off the work-related side of his brain and concentrated instead on the Daniel-related part of it. Suddenly, his reaction in the kitchen, his talk of Sha’uri and Carter and what he could and could not settle for made a lot more sense. “And then I come along and make all that thinking redundant.”

“Not redundant, just ... everything was turned on its head. Not me leaving you, you leaving me. I’m still trying to figure out why that hurts so fucking much. Leaving is leaving. The result is the same.”

Jack scooched closer, kissed Daniel’s hair, pressed his love into Daniel’s skull.

“Atlantis, Jack. I am quite possibly about to be offered Atlantis. Before us, I wouldn’t have thought twice. And yet, a part of me was already on board Daedalus as soon as Radek told me about the rumor.” Daniel went quiet for a while and then asked the question Jack had been thinking about, too. “If Radek is right ... will you let me go?”

“I ... don’t know,” Jack said truthfully.” I guess I’m running out of excuses _not_ to let you go. Guess it wouldn’t be my call now.”

“But you’ll still be The Man. A bigger The Man, actually. You could still veto.”

“But if New Guy at the SGC says yes, it wouldn’t be much of a vote of confidence in him if I overruled, would it?”

Daniel’s thumb was stroking the back of Jack’s hand. Jack tried not to be distracted by the feel of skin on skin, rubbing, caressing. The warmth contrasted sharply with the ice in his gut that had formed when the word Atlantis passed Daniel’s lips. He’d fought so hard to keep Daniel on Earth, for operational and emotional reasons, and he knew his motives didn’t always bear close examination. It had become a private joke. _“Can I? No. But Jack ... No Daniel.”_

It was no joke now. How could he deny Daniel’s dream when he was about to take a giant step towards ripping the rest of his world apart? Deep in his heart, he was still resistant to letting him go. Deep in his brain, the word “hypocrite” was tolling loud and clear.

Without warning, Daniel turned over to face Jack. Lying close, he raised a hand to cup Jack’s face. “I haven’t said ‘I love you’ in all this. I do, Jack, so fucking much. You do know that.” There was a desperation in his eyes that Jack found hard to take, so he closed his eyes to it and turned his face into the comfort and warmth of Daniel’s palm.

“Yeah. I know that.” He found his voice with difficulty.

“Do you? Do you get what seeing less of you would do to me? Not being here to talk us both down after a fuck-awful day, or being able to laugh at stuff that no one else would ever laugh about. We’ve worked so damned hard to get here, and even this isn’t enough. Not really. I don’t know whether I can handle losing what we have. But the thing is ... Atlantis? In spite of everything I’ve said about wanting, _needing_ us to be together, I know I’ll say yes, and saying yes to Atlantis while being pissed at you for fucking off to Washington is the ultimate in hypocrisy.”

Hypocrisy ... Jack could accept the word in relation to his own feelings, but hearing it in relation to Daniel, from Daniel, was too hurtful.

Jack kissed Daniel’s palm, covered Daniel’s hand with his. “Not a hypocrite, Daniel. Just a confused human being dealing with confusing shit. Hell, I’m confused, too. Do I want you to go to Atlantis? No, I fucking don’t because I’m selfish enough to want you to stay here. If you get the go-ahead, I’ll probably spend the day you’re due to leave hoping the Daedalus develops unfixable engine failure.”

They lapsed into a crowded silence. So many truths and feelings to think about in all this. Eventually, Jack said softly, “I just think ... it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. We have to keep on keeping on ... lots of couples make long-distance relationships work. We just have to hang on. For a while. It won’t always be like this.”

“You’re talking retirement.”

“Gotta let me go some day.”

“They’re not letting Hammond go.”

“Hammond’s different. He has the ear of the President. They’ve known each other for years.”

Daniel closed his eyes, frowning, unhappy, still exuding desperation. “But there will always be something to keep us apart, always another threat.”

“Goa’uld gone. Replicators gone.”

“But who knows what’s around the corner.”

“No one knows that, Daniel. Couples who wake up in the morning and sleep together every night don’t know that. Everything about being in a relationship is a leap of faith.”

Daniel opened his eyes and whispered, “I’ve taken that leap, Jack. Don’t let me fall." He went quiet then,and Jack knew that everything hinged on what Daniel was about to say. It was as though the world was holding its breath. And then he saw it, a kind of peace in Daniel's eyes, an acceptance. He lifted his head, tilted his chin up and looked Jack directly in the eye. Jack was hypnotized by the intensity he saw there. He couldn't have looked away if he tried. "Okay," Daniel, said softly, then more loudly and assuredly, "Okay. Bottom line. I need to know that you’ll be here. I will say yes to Atlantis because I can't and don't want to say no, but I want us to be together, in separate galaxies, worlds apart, I need to know that there will still be an us. I can’t be me, wherever I am, without you.” Through a suspicion of tears, he choked, “God, Jack, don’t let me fall.”

So beautiful, so trusting. Jack held Daniel’s heart and bared soul in his hands.

“Never, Daniel,” Jack managed, throat tight, heart full. “You gotta know that.”

The beep of the alarm clock was sudden and loud. Jack looked at Daniel in the gray light of morning. Daniel looked at Jack, eyes full of love and also the first signs of hope.

Jack leaned in slowly and kissed him, a tender, achingly gentle movement of dry lips intended to reassure. He whispered against his mouth, “I will always be here to catch you. Always.” Daniel moaned softly in the back of his throat, encouraging Jack to deepen the kiss. He put both hands to Daniel’s face and let the kiss go on. Daniel tasted of coffee and exhaustion.

Jack pulled away reluctantly and hit the button to switch off the alarm. It was 5.30. He had a 7.30 a.m. conference call with Washington. A decision would be made on his replacement. He turned and gave Daniel another quick kiss, pushing him down onto his back as he did so.  “Why don’t you sleep in? I’ll clear it with the boss.” Jack smiled, smoothing a hand over Daniel’s chest.

“I won’t sleep now. Besides, my boss will kick my ass if I’m late.”

“Your boss _loves_ your ass.”

“I love my boss.”

Jack stroked Daniel’s hair back from his forehead and watched Daniel give himself up to the love in the touch. Everything seemed so simple when they could just touch and love and be.

“I’ll go make some coffee and eggs. Take your time. Take a shower if you want. I’ll call you when the food’s ready.”

Jack kissed him again. He didn’t want to stop touching but if he didn’t quit now, he’d never be able to leave.

Jack slid from the bed and pulled up short by the door when Daniel asked, “You taking those boxers to Washington?”

“Yes. I am.” It was his choice of underwear damn it. He liked his boxers. They were comfortable and familiar.  And he refused to be thrown by the sudden non-sequitur.

“Good. That’s ... good.”

Jack looked at him and saw Daniel waiting for him to get it, waiting for him to hear what Daniel was trying to tell him. He smiled, because he did get it. “ _Who the hell in sophisticated Washington would fall for you wearing that fucking underwear?”_

 “Breakfast in fifteen.”

 

>>>>> 

 

Daniel folded the damp towel and placed it over the bathtub. He pulled on chinos and sweatshirt from last night; he’d change at the base.

The smell of coffee wafted into the bedroom. More awake after the shower, he wrestled his hair into submission as he walked over to the nightstand and picked up his watch and wallet. Propped up against the lamp was an envelope bearing is name, written in Jack’s familiar scrawl.

He sat down on the bed and opened it. Inside was a round-trip air ticket to Washington in Daniel’s name.

“First thing I did after taking the call from the Pentagon,” Jack said, walking towards Daniel and holding out a mug.

Daniel took the mug and looked again at the ticket. He held their future in his hands. One thin piece of paper that signified so much. He felt his hands to start to shake.

“Four weeks, Daniel. If we can make it through the first month, the rest will be a piece of cake.”

“Four weeks,” Daniel said, mentally calculating the hours.

“We clear our schedules. No ifs, buts or maybes.”

Could it really be that simple?

“Alien invasion notwithstanding.”

“We tell ’em to fuck off.”

“Why didn’t we try that before?”

“That’s a good question.”

Daniel put down the mug and tapped the ticket against his hand, wondering what to say now the coping banter had run its course.

“You okay with any of this?” Jack sat beside him, brushing shoulders.

“I ... really don’t know.”

“Gonna give it a shot?”

Daniel turned to look at him. Quiet anxiety was written all over his face. God. He couldn’t lose this man. There were so many unanswered questions roiling around in his head. So many uncertainties. So many ifs, buts and maybes. But there was one thing he knew: he could not lose Jack.

“Yes,” he said. “I am.”

He’d give it his best shot. What they had was worth fighting for.

“I really am.”

 

>>>>> 

 

 _Three weeks later_

Daniel tapped away at his computer. He was wondering how to spell Doci for his report. He glanced with some trepidation at the Book of Origin that sat on his shelf awaiting further study. Christ. What a mess. What the hell, pardon the pun, had he and Vala unleashed on the galaxy?

He should have left for home hours ago but there was so much to do and so little time. This was a Crusade on the part of the Ori and they would waste no time in bringing the humans of the Milky Way to the true path.

It was going to get ugly and it was going to get ugly fast.

The words danced before his eyes on the screen. He had no idea what he was typing. He wanted, _needed,_ to talk to Jack, to let him know that he was all right. He knew from hints dropped by Landry that he’d been demanding regular reports on his and Vala’s status throughout the whole sorry episode.

More than that, he just wanted to hear his voice.

It was then that he became aware of someone standing in his office. He looked up, blinked and blinked again. The hand resting on the books was unmistakeable.

“Hey.  Wow. What the hell are you doing here?” _Oh god, oh my god, Jack ...._

“Nice to see you, too.” Jack. Jack in uniform, looking tired but determined and relieved and hiding it with a snippy quip.

Daniel stood up and rounded his desk. “No, no, sorry. It's just … I wasn't expecting to see you.” He willed Jack to hear the unspoken, _“But, god, I’m glad you’re here.”_

“Nah. Well, I was in the neighborhood.” Daniel might have bought that if it weren’t for the hint of anxiety he saw in Jack’s eyes. He nodded.

“And I've got a little surprise for… Mitchell.” So that was the excuse.

“Oh. Yeah. He loved the last one. The fact that you didn't tell him that we were all moving on to different positions.”

“Yeah.”

 “Sorry you missed _Daedalus_.”

“No, you're not.”

“You're right, I'm not.”

The pause turned awkward. There was so little of what they needed to say that they could say to each other here.

“Listen, I just had a briefing with Landry … about … your stuff.”

“Yeah.” Stuff. Fucked-up, world-threatening stuff. _That_ was what was around the corner ...

“Sounds like it could be a problem.”

“Well, we've been up against some pretty bad guys before.”

“Yeah, not so pretty. Overdressed, yes.”

“Been through some tough situations.”

“That we always won.”

From somewhere, Daniel dredged up a half smile.  “Yeah … but didn't you feel that was because we had someone looking out for us?”

Daniel felt himself being observed closely. Jack was assessing. Determining his response.

“I don't think I would say this to anyone else, but for the first time, I'm scared.” He _wouldn’t_ admit that to anyone else. He couldn’t. He _was_ scared. _Oh god, Jack, please ..._

Jack raised his eyebrows. Daniel looked away and sighed. He could feel the tears welling. He was damned if he’d fall apart in his own office.

“I'm hungry.” This time, Jack was waiting for Daniel to get it. And he did. Jack was here to catch him. He felt the echoes of Jack’s words against his lips. He lifted his gaze to Jack’s and, after a moment, smiled at him.

“Me too.”

Jack nodded towards the door. “Wanna?”

Daniel shrugged. “Mm-hmm.”

Maybe Jack could stay the night, but, if not, the airline ticket would take him to Washington in six days’ time.

No ifs, buts or maybes.

Daniel shoved his hands in his pockets and followed Jack to the commissary.

 

ends


End file.
